Flashback
by LaraCroftTR65
Summary: Beckett was shot looking for her mother's killer. It almost killed her, but she survived and is back with the NYPD. But when a sniper rampages through New York, will she be able to handle the pressure? Castle


'Kate! Kate!'

Castle ran after her but Detective Beckett sprinted on ahead. She couldn't stop now. She had been having flashbacks all week. Of that moment. The moment she was shot. She could feel the bullet burning through her chest, feel the blood leaking through her skin, soaking her shirt. She could feel the life draining out of her body as she struggled to breathe and she could hear the terrified screams echo around her.

Everything on this case was a reminder. The sniper in New York. Beckett wasn't sure which was stronger; her pathological fear of this guy or her fury that he had made so many unpleasant memories surface. Because she couldn't remember her shooting without memories of her mother's murder pushing their way forward again. She had been shot for investigating her mother's case. The two events would always be intrinsically linked in her mind.

She had tried to remain calm; tell herself and everyone around her that she was fine, that she could work this case.  
But that woman, lying on the stretcher had grasped her hand and Beckett had freaked. The woman begged her, pleaded with her to make the paramedics keep her inside.

She had screamed that the sniper was still there, still waiting to kill her, echoing Kate's thoughts about her own shooter who had never been caught. And in that tiny, confined hotel lobby, after the stress of the week and all her own worries building, it was finally too much. Her composure shattered into a thousand tiny pieces, as fragile as a china plate. Kate ran from the room, bursting into a narrow corridor that was for staff only. She had to run away from it all. She could hear Castle running after her, but she wouldn't stop. Not for him, not for anyone.

She burst into the hallway and began to cry. She ripped her bulletproof vest off and threw it viciously to the ground. Then she threw her police badge and gun on top of the pile and collapsed in a heap, sobbing.  
'I can't handle this,' she thought to herself through her tears.  
'Maybe I do have PTSD?' she wondered.

She was on the verge of some sort of an attack. Everywhere she went, she could feel those crosshairs on her back. Every flash of light reflected in a window pane was a sniper scope, glinting evilly in the light. Every truck backfiring or car door slamming was a gunshot echoing through the city.  
Everything triggered another flashback and she was lost to the world. Even the night before, in her own apartment, a flashback had made her paranoid. She had closed her curtains and broken a glass in her rush to grab her gun. In her panic to hide from the imaginary sniper, she had hidden behind her shelves, cutting her wrist on the broken glass that was scattered on the floor. Beckett had crouched in a defensive position for two hours, waiting for the sniper to attack while blood trickled down her arm. Of course, no one came, but once she had a flashback, it was like she became possessed. She couldn't make herself see sense.

Kate couldn't tell anyone; not if she wanted to stay on the case, but she was beginning to wonder if she really did. But Detective Beckett knew that she was safest when she was at the precinct; surrounded by armed cops and guards - it was one of the safest places in the city. And she wouldn't let this guy beat her. She was stronger than he was. She would triumph over her fear. She would come out on top.

Although at that moment, crouched in a hallway in a hotel, sobbing and fighting off another nightmare, that didn't seem very likely.

Kate decided it would be better to release all the emotion she has built up on this case now, rather than trying to compose herself. She buried her eyes in the heels of her hands and leaned back against the wall. For the first time since her shooting, she opened the gate and let all of her emotions flow. She was so sick of trying to box them in. Instead she stayed where she was on the ground and sobbed uncontrollably, a terrified sound escaping her lips every so often.

After she had cried herself out, Beckett decided to sneak out one of the back entrances. She didn't feel up to explaining herself to Castle. And Detectives Esposito and Ryan hadn't seen her episode and she wanted to keep it that way.

And she thought she had been doing much better until three days later, when Esposito called her into the evidence lockup.

'What are we doing back here?' she asked, almost indifferently, as he led the way into the room.

He walked to the other side of the table before answering, 'I want to show you something.' Then slowly, Esposito reached under the table and pulled a rifle out, holding it out for her to see.

'What is that?' Kate demanded, her eyes trained on the gun.

'It's the rifle...that shot you,' he replied gently.

She shook her head.  
'You are way out of line,' she choked out.

How could he do this to her? Trap her against the wall with this thing? She felt so betrayed. She thought Javier was like a brother to her. Surely he knew that this would not help her. This could only push her further and she was already balancing precariously on the edge. This could knock her over the other side and there would be no coming back from that fall.

'Just look at it.' Esposito walked forward with it and Beckett backed away.

'No! What the hell are you doing?' Her voice broke and tears gathered in the corner of her eyes.

'I've been where you are,' he tells her. 'I know what you're going through,' Javier tries to comfort her.

'Javi, I'm fine,' she says but her voice has cracked and her knees are shaking. Kate knows she will either scream, pass out or cry again if she doesn't regain control soon.

'You're not fine!' Esposito says. 'You're just trying to act like you are.'

Beckett looks at him angrily but she still backs away, further into the corner.

'This is just a tool. It's a hunk of steel,' he reasons. 'It has no magical powers and the person that fired it is not some all-powerful god. It's just a guy with a gun.'

Kate glares at him, trying to maintain her composure, but she can feel herself weakening with every word he utters.

'Just like the guy we're hunting now,' Esposito continues. 'And like every other bad guy, he's damaged goods.'

Kate watches Javi and he watches her, waiting for her to react. After a long pause, she swallows and says, 'So am I.'

'That's right,' he says gently, tears gleaming in his own eyes at his friend's pain. 'And that's okay. You think it's a weakness? Make it a strength.'

Beckett breaks her gaze. 'I can't,' she thinks. 'It owns me.'  
A single tear slides down her face.

'It's a part of you.' Esposito holds the gun out in front of her. 'So use it.'

Detective Beckett can barely look at the thing that almost killed her.

'No, this doesn't own me,' she thought. 'I can do this. I have to do this.'

Slowly, she shuffles forward, not allowing herself to look at the gun, or she knows she'll crack and run away. She badly wants to beat it, but it's hard. As she moves closer Kate still won't look at it.

Detective Esposito watches her with a sad admiration for her strength. Most people would shriek, or cry, or faint or run away, but Beckett moves closer.  
She stopped in front of him and placed one hand on the barrel of the rifle. Her eyebrows creased and she bit her lip, terrified and fighting the urge to run.

Calmly, she placed her other hand on the butt of the gun. She sniffed and tears streamed down her face but Beckett made herself hold on to it. She nodded at Javier, who stepped away, leaving her holding the weapon that had almost ended her life.

He watched in amazed silence, his eyes gleaming with tears.

Beckett looked at the gun. She could do this. She never thought that she would be able to do this, but here she was. And she was going to close this case.

And with the help of her friends, she was going to catch the son of a bitch who had killed her mother and shot her. And she was going to make them pay.


End file.
